


not heartbroken

by punkpete



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Crossdressing, EVERYTHING GOES WRONG, I think that's it - Freeform, Louis in Lace, M/M, Mostly Fluff, Rimming, and some smut, but they take it in stride, i fucking suck at tagging i'm sorry, i promise there's only slight angst, if you could even consider it that, past gryles if you like squint, this is basically the honeymoon from hell, very little bit of ziam okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-18 01:04:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4686419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punkpete/pseuds/punkpete
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one with the honeymoon from hell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	not heartbroken

**Author's Note:**

> this thing is like almost 7k and I meant to make it longer but it took me a long ass time and I'm a slow writer. Posting it now because hey, it's liam's birthday! happy birthday lima bean :) anyways, the other boys are only there at the end of the fic because they're crashing, of course. i did what i could with that. 
> 
> this fic was inspired by louis' not heartbroken t-shirt (ahem, the title) and as of recent events, harry's half a broken heart tattoo. and i got the idea from the movie just married with ashton kutcher. you should give it a watch, it's pretty fucking funny. 
> 
> any and all mistakes are mine. i also don't know shit about breaking your nose, but i did the best i could with what i had. please be kind. kudos and comments are always appreciated and motivate me to write more fics. :)
> 
> all the love,
> 
> sam x

“ _Fuck_ , Haz! We’re gonna be late, come on!” Louis shouts over his shoulder, running and dragging his luggage behind him as they try to make it to the correct gate before their plane takes off. Harry huffs out a breath behind him, trying to pull up his trousers and hold onto his bags at the same time without tripping over his own feet. Harry catches up to him as they make it to the gate and board the plane.

“Why do we need all this shit, anyway? It’s only two weeks, Lou, not two years.” Harry scoffs, but helps him load the luggage above their seats nonetheless.

“It’s not _shit_.” Louis argues as he situates himself in the window seat, Harry following to sit in the aisle seat.

“Two of those duffles are filled with _your hair products and moisturizers._ ” Harry groans, buckling his seatbelt and leaning over to buckle Louis’, because he knows Louis never remembers to do it himself. What would Louis do without him?

“My hair is _art_ , and skin care is very important, especially when we’re spending our honeymoon in LA,” Louis sniffs, before continuing. “Why are we spending our honeymoon in an LA resort again? Who does that?” Louis asks, his lips quirking up with mirth.

“Hey! There are several reasons. First, the weather. Second, the food. Third, the shops. Fourth, I quite like palm trees. And late night driving in fast cars.” Harry grins.

“ _I quite like palm trees_. You’re so pretentious,” Louis mocks. “Also, that doesn’t explain why we’re spending it in a resort when we could just stay in your fucking mansion of a summer home, or whatever the fuck you call it.”

“I like room service, and you like taking the piss out of the staff.” Harry shrugs.

“Partners in crime, that we are.” Louis smiles dopily over at him. Harry hooks his ankle behind Louis’.

-

The first thing that goes wrong happens halfway through the flight. Louis, content to try and focus on _Love, Actually_ because he’s always been the sap Harry thought he was, has his bright pink headphones in, the ones that Harry got him for his last birthday as a joke but he had immediately loved them anyways. There he is, minding his own business as Harry sleeps on his shoulder, and then, the unspeakable happens.

A little kid starts kicking the back of his seat. He swears this is the type of thing that only happens in movies, but, well. Here he is. It’s _actually happening to him._ He grits his teeth and pulls out a headphone, turning to Harry who is giggling at him with a sleepy smile.

"If I die-" He starts, but Harry cuts him off.

" _When_ you die." Harry corrects. Louis rolls his eyes.

"Fine, when I die, which is clearly becoming apparent that it's on this flight, please do me a favour and send this kid to fucking juvie." Louis growls, clenching his jaw as the kicking jars his seat.

Harry turns his head to look behind them to see the offender. "Lou, he's like, _seven._ " Harry reasons, but his lips quirk up with amusement.

"Do I look like I care?" Louis hisses, placing the headphone back in his ear and turning the movie up to an earsplitting volume.  He ignores the incessant kicking of his seat, and Harry's reply is drowned out by the film.

About an hour later, the kicking eventually ceases, presumably because the kid has fallen asleep. Louis lets out a sigh of relief as the end credits of the film play, and pulls out his headphones, coiling them up neatly and setting them aside so he can lean back and hopefully get some sleep before they land in a few hours.

It seems that Harry has other plans.

"Lou _iiiiiiiiiis_ ," He whines. Louis groans into his neck pillow, the sound vibrating through his lips.

"Let me sleep, H." He finally says, but his voice is muffled.

"You haven't eaten anything. You need to eat, Lou. Eat, then sleep, please? For me?" He begs, pouting his irresistible bubblegum pink lips, and who is Louis to say no to that? Louis rolls his eyes for the umpteenth time, and he really thinks it should be a sport, even though his eyes were closed that time. He leans forward, blinking his eyes open and depositing the neck pillow below his seat.

"Isn't all that airplane food complete rubbish, though?" says Louis, because even though he already knows the answer to the question, he likes to argue, especially if it'll push Harry's buttons.

"I don't give a shit if it's rubbish, babe. You need to eat something." Harry grunts, crossing his arms over his chest, his eyebrows furrowing.

"Yeah, yeah." Louis waves his hand dismissively, skimming over the airline menu. He signals for one of the flight attendants and tells her his order, placing the menu back on the table and stretching, his white henley riding up his torso to show a sliver of his tan stomach.

"That's probably not the best idea." Harry says, raising his eyebrows skeptically at Louis.

"What are you on about now?" Louis sighs.

"Ordering fried chicken on an airplane?" Harry states, but his voice lilts up at the end, making it sound like a question.

"It's not gonna kill me, Jesus, Hazza, calm down." Louis chuckles.

"Don't say I didn't warn you." Harry huffs.

-

Okay, no. It didn't kill him. But he did have food poisoning. So Harry was right, and Louis was wrong. Louis hated being wrong, and hated admitting to being wrong even more, let alone acknowledging it at all. They had made it off the flight, stuck in their honeymoon suite at the resort until Louis stopped feeling like death. Harry wasn't being as supportive as he could be.

"I told you so." Harry laughed, he fucking _laughed_. Although he was rubbing a cold cloth over Louis' forehead, and overall helping him to the bathroom and back, so that was nice.

"Keep laughing and we will _never_ consummate this marriage, you dick wad." Louis moaned, clutching at his sweaty stomach where his t-shirt was rucked up.

"Not like I'd wanna consummate it now, anyway. You need a shower." Harry giggled, wrinkling up his nose teasingly. Louis reached out for Harry, gripping his forearms.

"Help me get in the shower then." Louis groaned, his eyes squeezed shut tightly.

"What's the magic word?"

"Shut the fuck up."

"That's mean."

"Fuck off."

"Try again."

"Please?" Louis got out, his voice breaking as he opened one eye to look up at Harry.

"There's the spirit." Harry grinned, wrapping an arm around Louis and helping him stand to lead him to the en suite's large bathroom. Louis raised his arms obediently as Harry pulled his t-shirt over his head, looking around the expansive space.

"This tub looks like it belongs to Zeus, it's fucking huge." Louis mutters. Harry chuckles, shaking his head and sliding Louis' shorts down his thighs, Louis hopping back and forth on his feet to kick them off, swaying a little as he tried to keep his balance. Sweat dripped down from his forehead and trickled into his eyes, clumping his eyelashes together as he blinked up at Harry, who was sliding his boxers down and off to the side.

Harry stood, taking Louis' hand and making him do a little twirl. Louis leaned forward and gripped the edge of the porcelain tub, trying to not throw up again. He took a deep breath in through his nose, out through his mouth, and turned back to Harry, fixing him with a stern glare.

"Don't do that again. That made me dizzy."

"Sorry, love." Harry grimaced, looking sincerely apologetic as he helped Louis turn on the water and maneuver into the tub.

"Do you need me to stay to make sure you don't fall?" Harry asks, his voice softer. Louis just shakes his head, letting the water cascade down his back and slick his hair down, matting it to his head.

"If you need me, you know where to find me. I'm just gonna go call Mum." He says, shutting the door behind him with a definitive click.

-

Louis walks out of the shower, clad in only a small white towel wrapped around his waist. He makes his way to his luggage, unzipping it and pulling out a pair of black boxers briefs. He pulls them on and removes the towel, instead using it to fluff his hair until it’s mostly dry. He turns and sees Harry grinning at him, phone pressed to his ear.

Louis rolls his eyes and turns back around to hide his smile, standing up and throwing the towel in the corner of the room. He lays back down on the bed, putting his arms behind his head as he waits for Harry to finish his phone call.

“I told him not to eat it.” Harry whispers fiercely into the receiver. Louis sits up, annoyed. It’s not like Louis can’t hear him, for fuck’s sake.

“Yeah, Mum, it’s been a few days. It’ll be fine. I’m taking care of him. I don’t know if we’re staying longer.” He continues gently. Harry hangs up a few moments later and turns to Louis, phone in hand. Louis speaks before he can.

“Fight me, Styles.” Louis says seriously.

“What?”

“ _Fucking. Fight. Me_.” Louis emphasizes.

“What’s wrong, Lou? What did I do?” Harry asks, genuinely confused. Bless his heart.

“How very _dare_ you tell your mother about my mistakes. It’s none of her business.” Louis sniffs haughtily.

“Feeling better?” Harry grins, running a hand through his hair and completely ignoring Louis’ statement. Louis rolls over and whimpers into the pillow.

“....I threw up in the shower.”

“Louis! You should’ve yelled for me, I would’ve helped you.” Harry frowns, kneeling down by the bed and grabbing Louis’ hands in his. Louis shakes his head, flicking his damp fringe out of his eyes.

“It’s alright. I think I’m finally starting to feel better actually, just had to get it out of my system one more time.” Louis insists.

“Are you sure?” Harry asks, his face a mask of concern.

“Yeah, I mean, I’m not 100% yet but, I’ll be fine. Maybe we should just take the rest of the day? We can watch movies and cuddle?” Louis suggests, wrapping his arms around Harry and grinning into his shoulder. Harry nods against him, kissing the crown of his head and pulling back to sit next to him and lean into his side, arms wrapping around his middle.

-

The next morning, Louis blinks his eyes open to see Harry lying on his side staring at him, head in his hand, elbow propped against the bed as he stares at Louis fondly. Louis grins back, turning and pressing his face into Harry’s bare chest.

“Good morning, _husband_.” Louis chuckles into his skin. Harry sucks in a sharp breath, clearly a little surprised at the word, but runs a hand through the hair at the nape of Louis’ neck.

“It’s still so weird hearing that.” Harry admits, but his smile looks like it could split his face.

“It’s only been four days.” Louis lifts his head to stick his tongue out at Harry petulantly.

“Many more to come. How are you feeling? You look better.” Harry smiles, small and private, that smile reserved for Louis and only Louis. It’s obviously Louis’ favorite.

“Much better. Ecstatic, actually.” Louis hums, closing his eyes and letting his thoughts drift. Harry rubs his hands up and down Louis’ bare sides, and they fall into a comfortable silence for a while. This is one of the things Louis loves the most. Existing with Harry, nothing more. Breathing the same air, holding each other, letting themselves fade in and out. It’s so calm and intimate. It’s everything Louis has ever wanted, and it’s still hard to believe he has it.

This honeymoon may have had a shitty start, but it doesn’t matter to him. As long as Harry is by his side. It feels like everything and nothing all at once.

“I have a surprise for you.” Harry suddenly says, voice rumbling in his chest. Louis looks up at him, raising his eyebrows quizzically as if he’s displeased, but the quirk of his upper lip is a dead giveaway that it’s the exact opposite.

Harry doesn’t say anything, just shakes his head and disentangles himself from Louis, making Louis whine and grab for him.

“It’ll just be a second.” Harry smirks. Oh no. Oh _no_.

Louis sits up, his heart hammering in his chest, his eyes wide with anticipation as he sees Harry make his way to his duffle bag, clad in only a pair of tiny white briefs. He’s obscene without even trying. Harry shuffles through it, turning around with a small gift bag in his hand and setting it in Louis’ hands. Louis thinks his mouth might go a little slack.

Louis looks down, a little bewildered, but he thinks he knows exactly what this is. His heart starts to race faster at the thought, if that’s even possible. He opens the bag gingerly, reaches a hand inside and moves the tissue paper aside until his hands touch something soft. He looks up at Harry, eyes blown wide, almost completely black, the blue ring around them darker than normal. He pulls out the piece of fabric and swallows audibly.

Harry bites his lip, sitting at the end of the bed and waiting for a response. Louis runs his hand over the panties, white and lacy, skimpy enough to cover absolutely nothing, but very, very pretty, especially with his skin tone, he thinks. He blinks at Harry, fluttering his eyelashes and tilting his head the way he knows drives Harry crazy. He can hear the sharp intake of Harry’s breath and manages to place a smirk on his face even though his entire body is shaking with want.

He stands, sways his hips on his way to the bathroom and hears Harry’s answering hiss of air through his teeth. He stands in front of  the full length mirror, slides his sweats down his thighs, letting them pool around his ankles so he can kick them away. He steps into the panties, one leg at a time, pulls them all the way up until they’re snug on his bum. He turns around, looking back at himself to see how the back looks. It just barely covers the expanse of half his cheeks, though it leaves nothing to the imagination because it might as well be see-through.

He faces forward and traces a finger against the waistband. It’s even tighter in the front, the tip of his cock peeking out, red and leaking pre-come. He grins at himself in the mirror and then walks out of the bathroom, strutting towards the bed where Harry is lying back again, star-fished on the bed and completely bare. Harry lifts his head and moans, arching his back just at the sight. Louis looks down at him slyly, crawls in between the v of his legs and rubs his hands up and down his thighs.

Louis twists his mouth up to the side, pursing his lips and sucking his cheeks in a little to make his cheekbones look more prominent. Harry groans.

“All these years, and that still gets to you?” Louis teases, ghosting his lips over Harry’s torso, placing a kiss in the middle of the butterfly on his stomach.

“ _You_ get to me.” He breathes out shakily. Louis can’t help but look smug. He slides his hands up Harry’s arms, raising his body until they’re flush against each other. Harry bites his lip and ghosts his hands over Louis’ bum. His grip gradually gets harder, squeezing Louis’ cheeks between his hands. Louis whimpers, mouth falling open, tongue peeking out to wet his lips.

“Roll over. On your stomach.” Harry whispers, lips sucking a mark into his neck, voice muffled. Louis lets out a moan, and obeys. Harry sits up, takes Louis’ wrists and lifts his arms above his head. He runs his hands over Louis’ shoulder blades, between his ribs, down his sides, the small of his back.

“Don’t be a tease.” Louis warns, raising his eyebrows pointedly over his shoulder at Harry.

Harry laughs, but he obliges, looming over Louis as he pulls at the waistband of the panties, sliding them down just enough to reveal Louis’ hole.

“So pretty, Lou.” Harry mumbles, more to himself than to Louis, but it makes Louis keen and arch his back, shoving his ass towards Harry and wiggling it in enthusiasm. He feels Harry’s warm breath coming out against his entrance and tenses, waiting for the intrusion. Harry presses a kiss to his hole, wet and sloppy, making Louis let out a strangled noise that he tries to keep in the back of his throat. He can feel Harry smirk against him, and then his tongue is everywhere at once, at least it seems that way.

It’s pointed, thrusting into his heat shallowly, and the next it’s licking around his rim, pressing kisses into his lower back, wedging itself between his balls. This is what Harry does best. Harry shoves Louis’ hips down, trying to stop him from pushing up against his tongue or down onto the bed to release some of the pressure off his cock. Louis’ arms are down by his sides now, clenched into fists, his nails cutting into his skin.

Harry shoves his face in deeper, until the tip of his nose is mixed in with his spit, which is all over his chin, dripping down his neck. He lets go of Louis’ hips to spread his cheeks wider apart, getting his tongue deeper.

“H, I’m close, you have to s-stop.” Louis grits out. Harry draws back, making an obscene slurping sound as he does.

“Gonna make you come just like this. Then I’ll have you come again on my cock.” Harry grins filthily as Louis whines, bucking his hips against the bed before Harry can restrain him. He goes back down, lips around Louis’ hole, tongue shoving in punishingly deep, moaning against him and making Louis feel the vibration through his whole body.

This is the moment where Louis starts crying. He felt the stinging in his eyes, but he finally lets the feeling wash over him, the desperate need to come, how much he wants to rub off against the sheets. He just wants so much from Harry all at once, and it overwhelms him. This always happens when Harry eats him out, it’s nothing new. In fact, Harry gets off on it being so good for Louis that he can’t help but cry.

Louis brings his arms back up until he can fist them into his own hair, pulling in anguish as Harry stops moving his tongue, only giving teasing kitten licks that make Louis cry harder.

“Make me come, fuck, please.” Louis begs. His throat is clogged and tight, makes his voice come out a little thicker than usual.

Harry ignores his request and shoves the tip of his thumb into Louis. Louis shouts, toes curling and legs threatening to spasm.

“Such a slut for it, aren’t you? Love it when I wreck you. Look so beautiful in these, Louis. Too bad you’re going to ruin them. They make your skin look even better, fuck, you’re so tan….” Harry trails off, catching himself and breathing heavily. He pushes his thumb all the way in and then pulls it out just as quickly, more tears falling down Louis’ face as he grunts.

Louis gets mad then, clenching and completely empty.

“ _HARRY EDWARD STYLES, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, IF YOU DON’T FINISH ME OFF IN THE NEXT TEN SECONDS I WILL TELL YOUR MOTHER-_ ” He shouts, and cuts himself off with a sharp intake of air as Harry starts licking into him fervently again. He gasps in a couple breaths, and that’s _it_. He screams Harry’s name into the crook of his elbow and comes, spurting up his tummy and sufficiently ruining the panties at the same time. His chest heaves as he feels Harry gently pull the panties down his thighs and off his legs, throwing them onto the floor.

“No need to threaten me with telling my Mum about our sex life, please, she already knows more than she probably ever wanted to.” Harry huffs out. Louis scoffs, but doesn’t have the energy to speak or roll his eyes. He closes his eyes, letting his body melt into the mattress as his arms fall back by his sides.

“‘m gonna fuck you now, ‘kay?” Harry mumbles, leaning over him to reach for the lube in the night stand. Louis hears the snick of the cap opening, but it’s all a little fuzzy in his post-orgasm haze. Harry drizzles it on his fingers and slicks himself up. Even though Louis is probably prepped enough from his tongue, he just wants to make sure. And maybe torture Louis a little more.

Harry’s necklaces swing and brush Louis’ lower back, tangling together and swishing against his warm skin, cold and shiny metal glinting in the light. He pushes all three digits in at once, Louis taking them in greedily, the slide easy. Harry moans at the feel of his heat around his fingers.

“Jesus, how are you always this tight..” Harry wonders aloud. Louis throws his head back, clearly not hearing what Harry’s saying because he’s just brushed his prostate.

“Hurry up and fuck me.” Louis growls, his cock already fattening up between his legs again, though it hurts a little with the over-stimulation. Harry pulls out his fingers and leans forwards until he can pull Louis’ head back by the wisps of hair on the nape of his neck and kisses him from the side, warm and wet and dirty. He lets go and Louis’ head slumps forward, hitting the headboard with a light thud. Harry shuts his eyes as he lines himself up with Louis’ hole, slowly pushing in until the head of his cock pops past the rim.

“Holy fuck,” Harry swears. He thinks this is the closest to heaven he’ll ever get, inside his boy. Louis is now quite less articulate, his eyes starting to tear again as he writhes under Harry, trying to push him in further. Harry leans forwards, squeezing Louis’ cheeks between his hands harshly and sliding the rest of the way in, till his balls are pressed against Louis’ ass. Louis cries out in ecstasy and it takes Harry a full thirty seconds of staying perfectly still in order to not come right then.

He keeps Louis’ cheeks spread apart, clutched snugly in his hands as he thrusts into him harshly, fast and relentless. Louis is letting out little _uh uh uh’s_ _,_ curses and Harry’s name in between. Harry looks up at the ceiling, can’t look at Louis underneath him without coming too soon. Harry lets out a purr when he hits Louis’ prostate, Louis clenching around him. The purr turns into a primal sort of rumble, a satisfied growl.

“ _Mine_ , you’re _mine_ , Louis, always.” Harry hisses, looking down at the small of Louis’ back as he thrusts harder, Louis pushing down and meeting him each time.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck HARRY!” Louis screams as he comes all over himself for the second time, joining the puddle on his stomach and shooting up to his collarbones and even a little on his neck. He clenches harder around Harry as he releases, and Harry loses it.

“ _Mine, mine, mine._ ” He chants over and over, a little delirious as he falls over the edge, coming inside Louis, slicking up his walls. He slowly lets go of Louis as the aftershock washes over him, pulling out and rolling over onto his back.

“That was definitely in the top ten.” Louis turns onto his side, propping his head in his hand to look fondly over at Harry, his eyes a little far away still. Harry snickers, snuggling into Louis’ side and kisses his nose lightly.

“For morning sex, that sure as hell wasn’t lazy.” Harry snorts.

“Hey, I’m not complaining.” Louis grins at him, eyes sparkling.

“You look tired. We should go back to sleep for a few hours. Then we can do whatever you want, deal?” Harry says gently. Louis nods, letting his eyes fall shut and burying his face into Harry’s neck, tangling their legs together as he lets sleep take him in.

-

“Whose idea was this again?” Louis whines, trying not to step on Harry’s feet. He never realized how big Harry’s feet were until now.

“It was your idea.” Harry giggles, clearly enjoying watching Louis struggle not to get his toes stepped on or possibly crushing Harry’s toes.

“It was a bad idea. I hate dancing. I hate this.” Louis groans, glaring at the side of Harry’s face as they twirl around the studio. He sees the instructor walking towards them out of the corner of his eye and lets go of Harry’s hands, turning to face the man as he stands in front of them.

“Having trouble?” He asks, a stupid smile on his face with his stupid quiff and his stupid jeggings or whatever the fuck they’re called. Louis is maybe just a little bitter.

Harry turns to look at him and visibly freezes, eyes widening in recognition.

“ _Nick?_ ” Louis’ head snaps towards Harry so fast he almost gets whiplash. He knows the guy? Louis is maybe a _lot_ bitter now. Louis watches in horror as they smile at each other, big and wide, and Harry goes in to hug him, wraps himself around Nick’s entire body like an octopus, just like he always hugs everyone. It makes Louis irrationally upset. Louis clears his throat, making them separate and look at him, stopping whatever conversation was going on that Louis couldn’t hear.

“You know each other?” He asks, voice hard and glare icy.

“Louis, this is, um, Nick Grimshaw. Most people call him Grimmy but, uh, we used to…..date.” Harry breathes out the last word so quietly Louis isn’t sure he heard it correctly. Fury flares up in his belly as he turns to Nick. He gives Louis a frown, and well, good, Louis thinks, the hate is mutual.

“We’re on our honeymoon.” Louis says, plastering a fake smile onto his face and throwing an arm around Harry’s shoulders. Harry looks down at him in disbelief.

“Louis, be _nice._ Christ, Nick, I’m sorry.” Harry apologizes, squeezing Louis’ hip in retaliation.

“It’s fine. I’ll see you around?” Nick gets out, his teeth clenched together, but he waves his hand around airily, trying to seem nonchalant as he stalks off before Harry can say goodbye. Louis turns on Harry like an attack dog as soon as he’s out of earshot.

“What the fuck is he doing here? Why is this happening? Why did you date him? When did you date him? How far did you get with him?” Louis spits out a rapid fire, clutching the fabric of Harry’s t-shirt tightly and pulling him forwards.

“Whoa, Lou. Slow down. I guess he works at the resort as a dance instructor, I promise you, I didn’t know. I dated him back in high school, before I met you. It only lasted a couple of months. We didn’t do anything more than kiss, I swear.” Harry says, looking confused and a little upset at the interrogation.

Louis shudders at the thought of that man anywhere near his boy.

“You’re not worried, are you?” Harry asks, eyes wide.

“Of course I’m bloody worried! He looks at you like you’re a piece of meat, Harry. He’s a dick.” Louis grunts.

“You don’t even know him! If you trusted me, you wouldn’t be worried.” Harry whisper-yells, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

“I trust you, just not him.” Louis says firmly, turning on his heel and dragging Harry with him out of the studio.

-

It turns out the fight was for nothing, because Harry doesn't see Nick again. Small victories, Louis thinks. They're on the beach and Louis wants to fucking fight this soccer mom. She's rude and she deserves it, but Louis doesn't know if he can bring himself to hit a woman, no matter how enraged he is. His Mum raised him better than that.

He squints up at her, lifting his sunglasses to make eye contact. She has a hand cocked on her hip, and a little boy clutching her hand. Her gaze is disgusted, if not judgmental.

"Can you move? This is our spot." She spits. Harry sits up, raising his eyebrows at her in disbelief.

"We were here first." Louis snaps through gritted teeth.

"So?" She says haughtily, yanking her son back as he tries to walk backwards. He has the right idea, Louis thinks.

"Finders keepers." Harry supplies, his mouth a thin line.

"You realize harassing us is a hate crime, don't you Helen?" Louis bites out, smiling up at her menacingly.

"You think because you're gay you deserve more privileges than me? You think you're better than me? My name isn't Helen." She scoffs.

"We don't think we deserve more privileges than anyone. Just equal rights, ma'am," Harry starts, before Louis cuts him off.

"But yes, we do think we're better than the likes of _you_. Straight, white, and clearly well off. You're just a carbon copy. I'm sorry, didn't quite catch your name?" Louis snorts, holding his hand up to his ear mockingly. Harry stifles a laugh behind his hand.

"You're not better than anyone. My name is _Patricia_." She scowls as she says it and turns around to leave, her son trailing behind her. Louis feels incredibly self-satisfied, even though he still wants to hit her. He feels bad for that poor, poor child.

“What a bitch.” Louis snorts, turning to Harry and placing his sunglasses back on his nose.

“You - called - her - Helen.” Harry chokes out between laughs, gripping his stomach.

“You should be proud.” Louis says, puffing out his chest, the expression on his face smug. Harry wipes his eyes, grinning and biting his lip.

“I am. You’re the only person who can make me laugh like that.” Harry says shyly. Which, is kind of ridiculous, Louis thinks, since they’re married and have been together for so long, but the dopey smile on Louis’ face is probably just as ridiculous of a reaction.

“She deserved it, though. Fuckin’ soccer mom.” Louis mutters, leaning back and turning to face Harry so he can drag his index finger down his torso, watching the muscles flutter. Harry’s reply is lost as he feels Louis’ nail dig into his stomach and trail down to the waistband of his swim trunks. He looks down at Louis, the tilt of his head a little foreboding.

“You’re scandalous.” He whispers, so only Louis can hear. Louis smirks, flattening his palm against Harry and sliding it up his chest.

“Nah, just can’t help it. You’re the exhibitionist in this relationship, not me.” Louis teases, holding his hand directly over Harry’s heart as the beating of it speeds up.

“Fuck, I’ve been caught.” Harry chuckles lowly, reaching up to push Louis’ fringe off his face. He slides his hand down, across his neck, past his collarbone, between his ribs, until he reaches the part where his hips flare out into his thighs and rests his hand there, squeezing lightly.

“We should go back to the hotel.” Louis breathes out, his lips just barely brushing against Harry’s. Harry nods quickly, his hair flopping in his face as Louis drags him up by his hand to run across the beach.

By the time they reach the door of their room, Louis has Harry pinned to it, rucking his shirt up his chest until it’s under his armpits. Louis reaches his hand back to turn the knob and the door opens. He spins around so he’s walking backward and pulling Harry back with him, guiding him through the door, but he loses his footing and accidentally slams the door forward with his foot, hitting Harry directly in the face.

Harry lets out a yell and steps inside, clutching his nose as Louis shuts the door behind them.

“Shit, shit, I’m so sorry, is it broken? Fuck, what am I supposed to do? Tell me what to do!” Louis shrieks, his voice panicked, his eyes wild. Harry tilts his head back, trying to stop the blood gushing down his face and into his shirt, but it’s no use. He shakes his head, tears falling down his face.

“Call the - hotel doctor, or whatever the fuck it’s called.” Harry gets out, his voice muffled and strained behind his hand.

“Okay, okay. I can do that. Maybe I should get you a towel?” Louis nods to himself, turning around to walk into the bathroom and grab a towel off the counter, running back to Harry to wipe at the blood on his neck and help him cover his nose.

“Hang tight, I’m calling, I’m calling!” Louis shouts, grabbing the hotel phone off the bedside table and dialing the proper number.

“‘ello, yes, I need a doctor in room 307, right away. My uh, husband accidentally hit his nose and there’s blood like, fucking everywhere. It might be broken, I’m not sure.” Louis stutters into the receiver. Once he gets a response he says thank you about thirty times over, but hangs up to see Harry sitting on the edge of the bed, still clutching his nose as the blood soaks through the towel.

“God, it must hurt a lot. I’m sorry H, I  didn’t mean for this to happen. Any of it, really.” Louis says sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck nervously. Harry shakes his head minimally, wincing at the pain as he turns to look at Louis.

“It’s not your fault, Lou. I’ll be fine.” Harry insists, his voice barely discernible behind the towel.

“I’m gonna feel even worse if it’s broken.” Louis sighs.

“If it weren’t, I wouldn’t be crying.” Harry states, wiping at his eyes. Before Louis can reply, there’s a soft knock at the door. He jumps up, turning to Harry and giving him a thumbs up before opening the door to reveal a short, dark haired woman, carrying a first aid bag.

“Hello. I’m here to see about a possible broken nose? I’m Doctor Warren, but you can call me Lindsay.” She smiles, stepping inside. Louis shuts the door behind her and guides her up to Harry, who is still shuddering with pain.

“Hi, love. Mind removing the towel?” She asks gently, sitting down next to Harry and opening up her bag. He slowly releases his nose, closing his eyes and leaning back as the blood drips down. She puts on gloves and gently prods at Harry’s nose, making him jerk back.

“I’m gonna have to put gauze in your nose, to stop the bleeding. But it’s only a simple fracture, so I can set it straight now. It’s gonna hurt, but it’ll be quick, okay?” Lindsay says, adjusting her gloves. Harry nods feebly.

“Do you need to hold my hand?” Louis asks, a little desperate to help since it was partially his fault. Harry looks as if he wants to protest, but just sighs and reaches a hand out for him. Louis smiles and walks to Harry’s side of the bed, clasping his fingers tightly with his own. She takes a deep breath before giving Harry a warning glance and straightening his nose. He lets out an aborted shout, clamping his mouth shut as more tears fall down his cheeks.

She pulls back and gives him an apologetic smile.

“Just have to put in the gauze now, and you’ll be good to go. This part shouldn’t hurt barely at all.” Lindsay assures, patting his cheek as she pulls back to get the gauze out of her bag. Louis squeezes his hand as he lets out a shaky breath. She carefully puts the gauze in Harry’s nose, and he flinches, but his shoulders relax in relief when he realizes it doesn’t hurt as much anymore. Once she’s done, she pulls off her gloves and gives them a wave goodbye before slinging her bag over her shoulder and closing the door behind her.

Louis sits by his side and leans forward to wipe the tears off his face.

“Does it feel any better?” Louis asks.

“Yeah, but it’s still gonna be sore like a mother fucker for at least a week.” Harry grumbles. Louis bites his lip a little at that, trying to suppress a giggle with the back of his hand.

“I’m sorry. I know I’ve said that like, a million times, but I am.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Just cuddle me.” Harry pouts. Who is Louis to deny him that?

-

After a few days of movies and junk food, as well as a failed attempt at parasailing, there’s a knock on the door. Louis sits up in bed, his arm thrown over Harry’s waist, and squints before looking back at him.

“We’re not expecting anyone, are we?” Harry shakes his head, furrowing his eyebrows as Louis gets up, his feet padding across the floor as he pulls the door open, clad in only a pair of black sweatpants.

Liam, Zayn, and Niall are standing in the doorway. Louis’ jaw actually might drop. He hits the closest person in the shoulder, which happens to be Liam. _(Convenient)._

“What the fuck are you guys doing here?” Louis practically yells, his eyebrows almost in his hairline.

“Here for business. Thought we’d stop by to crash the last day of your honeymoon.” Zayn grins. Louis glares daggers at all three of them.

“Shit, it is the last day isn’t it? What sort of business?” Louis squints suspiciously. Harry sits up and waves at them as they step inside, a dopey smile on his face, clearly unperturbed.

“Recording. And meetings. Decided to take Niall along with us.” Liam supplies, jabbing Zayn in the side with his elbow lovingly. Liam managed Zayn, who was about to release his debut album in a few months. They were also disgustingly in love. Maybe it was contagious.

“Still forever alone, eh, Nialler?” Louis laughs, clapping him on the back and leading him to have a seat on the couch against the back wall along with Liam and Zayn.

“Oi, watch it!” Niall yells, but he’s smiling. Niall is the first to take a good look at Harry, his eyes wide.

“What happened to your nose, mate?” He asks, a little bewildered. Liam and Zayn stop whispering to each other and look up at Harry, Liam covering his mouth with his hand, Zayn’s eyebrows raising.

“Accidentally got hit in the face with the door. It was, um, a team effort.” Harry laughs a little dryly, although it had mostly stopped hurting, it still looked awfully purplish.

“The dream team at it again.” Liam teases, running his hand through Zayn’s hair. (He’s the only one allowed to do that besides Zayn, much to Louis’ disbelief).

“This entire trip has been a catastrophe to be honest, but we still managed to have a good time, right, Haz?” Louis laughs. Harry nods, his lips quirking up.

“It’ll be a great story to tell our future kids.” Harry giggles. Louis’ smile gets wider, if that’s even possible, and he moves off the couch to sit next to Harry, their sides pressed together, his hand dropping to Harry’s thigh and squeezing.

“Speaking of kids…” Zayn trails off, fluttering his eyelashes up at Liam.

“We got a surrogate.” Liam finishes, his cheeks flushing, his eyes bright. Louis and Harry yell in unison, and Niall joins in, even though he must’ve already known.

“When?” Louis asks, pulling back from their group hug.

“Got the call yesterday. Another reason we wanted to come down here, so we could tell you.” Zayn laughs.

“We should go get drinks to celebrate! Right now, come on, go get ready, we’ll meet you down at the pub around the corner!” Louis insists, guiding them towards the door and closing it with a wave. He holds his hand out, wiggling his fingers at Harry to coax him into standing and grabbing it, letting him drag him into the bathroom. Harry is a little breathless, looking into the bright blue pools that are Louis’ eyes can do that to a person.

“I love you.” Harry can’t help but say, his eyes getting a little watery. Louis shakes his head, pulling him in and kissing his lip lightly.

  
“I’m the lucky one. I love you more. Now, come on, let’s get a move on, we have a lot of drunken Niall stories to get through!” Louis throws his head back and laughs. Harry thinks he is so, so beautiful. When Harry pulls back, Louis lands a smack to his ass, smirking up at him as he throws his shirt over his head. He wouldn’t have it any other way.


End file.
